Happy Sunday – or Easter, Passover or other reasons to celebrate. Every day really should be celebrated… I try to remember that.

Easter is another day that reminds me of my ex-husband waking me up and making hot crossed buns from scratch, in Australia. Today, I’m going out for Chinese food with my parents and one my sisters – I wouldn’t have it any other day.

In about 48-hours, my unexpected hiatus of unemployed, gypsy wanders concludes. I’ve learned a lot in the past five months. More than I’ve come to realize in the past three and a half years since I got back here.

The most relevant thing I’ve learned, is the utter requirement to leave my ex-husband in the past. And while this guts me in ways words can’t describe, I’ve started to mediate on forgetting him, opposed to reaching an understanding.

Everything I achieved, until I lost it, was never appreciated. Having my own place in Manhattan, swinging existence doing what I truly love to do and recognizing how HARD I worked to get where I am all blew out the window with the wrath of an ex’s breath.

Therapy taught me that I torture myself when someone I love hurts me. Which, fortunately doesn’t happen often. Because while I harbor an unconditional, universal love that I consciously spread daily – when it comes to human closeness, I tend to prefer the company of the puppies.

This isn’t even because I have a general issue with “people”, it’s because I know what happens when I get hurt. At least now I do. I naively lived a number of years thinking I’d never be hurt again.

Little did I know.

The gaps of silence over the past months have involved pondering all of this; growing in to my skin; and retreating back to who I was before a kid from Australia ripped out my beating heart, shoved it down my otherwise vegetarian throat and left me to choke on it for years.

So now, years later, I’m finished choking. The Universe has won back my soul, and I see him for what he is. Which, finally I understand – is nothing at all.

I’m leaving all of this in the windy trail I wandered these past few weeks while finding my way back home. And I found it. New York City… thank you for saving me once again.

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FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.